Changeling (Completed)

Day Thirty-Four

Day Thirty-Four - Four Days Too Long

I have died six times. Each time there is a fight between Death and the Miracle of Modern Medicine and Ronson's Mate Bond. Death keeps losing.

Death is also getting weaker. The angry pull, the terrible, migraine-inducing suction of its greed is less and less each time I slip away.

I am going to live.

Ronson is clutching my hand. He looks half-dead himself.

"Go away, Wolf," I speak in a dry whisper. "Get out and let me die." Maybe there is still hope. I can rectify this.

"Never," he croaked, glaring at me. His eyes have bags and bruises that are a deep purple-black from the lack of sleep. His face is weathered. He's aged a decade these last few days.

He kicked Benjamin out yesterday when I tried to convince my best friend for life (again) to pull the plug on the machines monitoring my heart and forcing it to beat. Not that Benji was going to do it, anyway, but Ronson is losing his mind as much as I have.

"This is a perversion."

"Shh, Innie. You will feel better... tomorrow, you will feel better."

Ronson said exactly the wrong thing. Tomorrow, he says, but I shouldn't have a tomorrow. I shouldn't have had a today. Thirty-four days. Four extra.

I close my eyes and feel him ease closer, fear pouring off of him. When I fall asleep, that is when I die. I used to float, now I try to escape this body entirely.

"Don't go, Innie, please," he pleads softly, brokenly.

I love him and hate him.

This is wrong.

I'm having Benji type up Day Thirty-Eight now. He's almost done. (Sometimes he types super-slow). I just wanted to include Day Thirty-Four because it's when I realized that Death was gone. I can't explain how I knew it, I just did. He wasn't going to try and take me back into the nether anymore. 

Anyway, more interesting stuff happened on Day Thirty-Eight. 

Love,

Innie

P.S. Benji says to let all of you know that he "legitimately gets fatigued" from sorting through my "meandering girl-speak" to type up this journal. He also wants me to point out that he and I have been writing this over a period of only four days. He thinks that's important information, but I said "we'll get there when we get there, Benji!" Then he rolled his eyes and kept typing Day Thirty-Eight.